Les Avengérables
by wholocked4
Summary: Just a little crossover that I came up with. My chapters all have weird lenghts, I know. Sorry 'bout that. Basically: Steve is the patriotic one (who else?), Clint and Natasha can't live without each other, Bruce is the runaway with supernatural strength, Tony only thinks of money, Thor is too small, and Loki hates everyone.
1. Chapter 1

**I**

Tony was wiping the last glass when the door burst open. A man with wild, long black hair stood there, framed by the door. His hair was wet from the storm that was shaking the little French town. The man spoke with a sickening British accent, "A beer."

Tony's eyebrow rose, "Excuse me?"

Lightning flashed across the sky, illuminating the man's slight frame and the uniform he was wearing. Tony recognized him immediately. "A beer," the man said, stepping into the dim halo of candlelight that shone inside the small inn. "This is an inn, right?"

"The bar is closed because of the storm, _monsieur Inspector_." Tony spoke the last two words with exaggerated emphasis, almost with sarcasm.

"I'd watch my words if I were you. I haven't forgotten your face, you know." Tony looked at Loki with surprise. "You are the man that let Banner get away."

Tony rolled his eyes, "I didn't know who he was." He placed a beer in front of Loki. "Still chasing him?" he asked. Loki nodded. Tony pointed his finger at the Inspector, "Tell me when you find him. I still want my Natalya back."

Loki raised an eyebrow, "Wasn't her name Natasha?"

Tony bit his lip, "Yeah... I was just testing your memory, Inspector."

After finishing his beer, Loki asked Tony, "Do you have an empty room, monsieur Stark?"

Tony reached under the check-in counter and threw Loki a key. "Down that hallway, last door."

Loki started towards the hallway, but suddenly turned around. "Have you seen my pocket watch?" he asked.

"No idea," Tony lied. Loki shrugged and went to his room. When Tony heard the door lock click, he took out a golden pocket watch and started polishing it.

"'Monsieur Stark'," he muttered to himself. "That has a nice ring to it."


	2. Chapter 2

**II**

Tony was just opening the front door when Loki slithered out. "Why the hurry, Inspector?" he asked sarcastically. He knew what Loki was going to answer. They all answered the same.

"It´s my duty to protect, Stark," Loki answered.

"What happened to 'monsieur Stark'?" Tony complained.

Loki rolled his eyes. Suddenly, his head snapped towards the passing crowd. "Who's that?" he asked.

Tony followed his gaze. Loki was looking at a well-dressed man in his mid-forties with curly brown hair. Walking next to him was a seventeen year old girl with flowing red hair and bright green eyes. "A guy running for mayor and his daughter," Tony answered. "Seriously, these days you just need money and a factory to get all the votes. Not that I dislike money, no sire, money is awesome, but—"

"Stark," Loki interrupted, "don't you ever shut up? I was just asking because he looks familiar. Maybe even like Banner."

"Lo-ki," Tony said slowly, rubbing his temples in exasperation, "to you, everyone looks like Banner." Seriously, this guy was nuts!

Loki grunted. Before he could walk away, his Inspector instincts kicked in and he grabbed the arm of the man (or to be more accurate, teen) that was entering the inn. The young blonde looked at him with fury. "I hope you aren't planning any more riots for today, Mr. Rogers," Loki drawled calmly, but his eyes flashed fiercely at Steve and his loyal lapdog, Clint Barton.

"And I hope, monsieur Inspector," Steve growled as he yanked his arm away from Loki's grasp, "you and your band of flying monkeys aren't planning any disgrace to this country, again."

"Hey, my inn is to get drunk, sleep, and nurse hang-overs, not for patriotic babble, so break it up!" Tony yelled, stepping between the two men.

Loki grumbled something under his breath and walked towards the busy street while Steve and Clint entered the inn, the later looking way more cheerful. A small boy, probably ten or eleven years old, tried to slip behind the dynamic duo, as Tony liked to call them.

"Hey, no kids without an adult," Tony called, grabbing the small blonde's head. The kid muttered something, probably 'It's so unfair. I'm so small. Why does the innkeeper have to be so awesome?'


	3. Chapter 3

**III**

Bruce hurried Natasha on. He had recognized him, he was sure. Loki had recognized him. He lowered his head and walked faster. Or he was going to walk faster before he realized that Natasha had stopped.

"'Tasha," he said patiently, "what's wrong?"

Natasha crossed her arms."That's exactly what I was going to ask you, papa! We were enjoying a nice morning together and suddenly you get all nervous!"

Bruce sighed and looked down, ashamed. "Sorry, 'Tasha. I was just- I just wanted to- It's just-" he stuttered nervously.

"I know, I know," the red-hair grumbled. "Things from a past you don't like to talk about. I also have a rough past, but you know everything about it and I don't know a thing about yours!"

"Natasha," Bruce managed, the green glare that always shut Natasha up flashing in his brown eyes.

Natasha dug her nails into her palms to stop herself from shouting. "I'm sorry, father. I shouldn't have spoken to you like that. Forgive me."

Bruce rubbed his eyes and muttered, "We're okay. Let's continue enjoying this wonderful morning."

Steve looked cautiously at Stark. He was trying to steal something from a half-drunk man and basically not paying attention to Steve and Clint. Steve spread a map on the small table and nudged Clint. "Where's Thor?" he asked.

Clint shrugged, "Stark probably didn't let him in."

Steve groaned, "Go look for him, Clint. He knows this city like no one else."

Clint smiled and walked towards the door. Where could he find Thor? He liked going to the market, so he was probably there. Or he could be near the police station, pranking unsuspecting guards. Clint was so distracted he didn't notice a passing red-hair until he crashed into her.

"I'm so sorry, mademoiselle," he stuttered feeling his cheeks grow hot.

The girl smiled a beautiful smile that lit up her green eyes. "I'm Natasha."

"Clint. Clint Barton," Clint answered. His legs felt like jelly.

"Natasha!" a man standing a few feet behind them called. The girl looked at him and then back at Clint.

"Sorry, gotta go," she whispered to Clint. Natasha turned around and walked towards the man, "Coming, papa!"

Clint could move. He just stood there, waving at no one like an idiot, until a hand snapped its fingers under his nose. "Earth calling Barton," Steve grumbled in his ear. "You in there, Clint?"

"Huh? I mean yeah," Clint answered, snapping out of his daze.

"Good." Steve patted his shoulder and called, "Thor!"

A blonde head popped up from a nearby roof, "Sorry, cap, I'm kinda busy."

Somewhere behind him, a soldier called, "Seize him!"

Thor waved at Steve and Clint and sprinted away. "What on Earth?" Steve managed to mumble.


	4. Chapter 4

**IV**

Thor hated being called a kid. Okay, maybe he was just ten but still, he wasn't like other kids. So he left the inn in a terrible mood and did what he always did: prove that he was different.

He walked casually towards a fruit stand and grabbed an apple. When the man in charge asked Thor to pay, the boy smirked and started running. He heard the man yell for help and the sound of soldiers chasing him.

Thor kicked a crate filled with oranges and watched in glee as the soldiers slipped. He continued running, taking different alleyways and shortcuts he knew with his lightly long blonde hair fluttering in his wake. As he was dashed though an especially narrow street, he realized that a little brunette about his age was looking at him. He winked at her and said, "Mademoiselle," without stopping. He turned around and saw the girl kicking a barrel in front of the passing soldiers. This girl was tough. Nice.

Thor turned left and found himself staring at a brick wall. He cursed under his breath and started climbing. Soon enough he was on top of the wall, looking down at the inexperienced soldiers trying to climb. Pathetic. He clambered onto the roof of one of the houses and sat on the ledge. "I was just having a snack, boys!" Thor called at the soldiers. The look they gave him spoke volumes.

Thor heard someone yelling his name and peeked over the side of the house. He spied Steve and Clint standing outside Stark's inn, probably looking for the boy. "Sorry, cap, I'm kinda busy," he yelled at Steve. Some of the soldiers had managed to get to the roof and one was yelling, "Seize him!" so Thor waved at his friends and ran to the other side of the roof, were he knew there would be another house close enough for jumping towards it.

He had been wrong. He couldn't make that jump. It was too far away. Maybe he could climb down or— A hand grabbed his shirt collar. The soldier's voice was gruff and he was panting when he said, "Now we are going to pay the Inspector a little visit, aren't we?"

Loki looked at his little brother over his desk. "Again?" he asked, bored.

"What are you going to do?" the ridiculously small blonde asked defiantly. "Tell Mummy?"

"She won't believe me," Loki answered, popping a grape into his mouth.

Thor smirked. "It's not my fault she likes me more. I am too adorable to be blamed."

"Maybe that will change when she learns that you are a little apple thief," Loki growled back.

"You said it yourself. She won't believe you. She never does."

"Whatever." Loki signaled two soldiers to take him away. "To the barracks, please."

Thor shook the soldiers' hands away. "I can walk, thanks," he grumbled. God, he hated his big brother!


	5. Chapter 5

**V**

Loki sauntered through the small town's plaza. Today's events had not yet managed to take his mind off what he had seen in the morning. That man, the one running for mayor, the one with the suspiciously familiar red-hair as a daughter, he was Banner. Loki was sure of it. And now, he had followed them into the plaza. He was itching to arrest him, but he didn't have proof yet. He needed bait.

Loki spied Thor playing with some of his equally weird and annoying friends. He was probably still angry about the whole barracks deal, but Loki called him over anyway.

Thor grumpily walked towards his big brother. "If playing is now a crime, I swear, I will not have control over my actions."

Loki rolled his eyes and went straight to the point, "I'll give you two silver coins and won't tell Mother about the apple theft if you do something for me."

Thor, now interested, raised his eyebrow and said, "Name it."

"Act scared."

"Huh?"

Loki didn't wait for his brother to react. He gave Banner one last glance and raised his sword over Thor's head. The boy either understood by now or was genuinely scared.

Loki held his position for one, two seconds before receiving the reaction he wanted. "Hey!" the man he thought to be Banner yelled. Loki slowly lowered his sword and turned to face him.

"You don't know what he has done," Loki replied calmly.

The man clenched his jaw and growled, "No, I don't. But I do know that is not the way justice works around here." And there it was. The unnatural flash of green on the man's brown eyes. Loki only knew one man on Earth that could do that. A smirk played on the Inspector's lips. "Leave the boy alone," Banner continued.

Loki flicked his hand, dismissing the idea. "Don't worry about him, monsieur." He threw Thor the named reward and the boy caught the coins greedily. "He's a paid actor. You are so easy to fool, Banner." The man took a step back. Loki continued, undisturbed by Bruce's reaction, "Really, long time no see."

The red-hair, Romanoff, was now standing next to her so-called father. "'Tasha," Bruce said shakily. In a matter of seconds, the man's fist collided with Loki's stomach, his supernatural strength knocking the Inspector off his feet. "Run!" he called to his daughter.


	6. Chapter 6

**VI**

Loki got on his feet as quickly as he could and started chasing the two runaways. The seventeen year-old had already made some space between her and the Inspector. She had stopped for a moment in front of Stark's inn and kissed Barton on the cheek after a few words. Probably declaring her undying love. Ugh, teenagers.

Loki had almost caught up with the duo when he crashed into someone. "I'm terribly sorry, Inspector. I didn't see you coming. Please forgive my sloppiness." Barton.

In fury, Loki pushed Clint away and looked around for Banner and Romanoff. Gone. Loki cursed under his breath and walked towards the police station. He needed to place a reward on their heads.

Clint had moved without thinking. He had seen Loki coming and knowingly took a step forward, crashing into him. He could decide if he had done it to protect Natasha or to wake up from this dream. Because it had to be a dream. His cheek still burned on the spot that she had kissed him. Clint still didn't understand why she was leaving. She had said something about a family emergency, but the teen knew she was lying. Then, he had seen her and her father walk into the town's train station. She wasn't coming back.

Thor was walking towards him, admiring a pair of silver coins he obviously hadn't won in an honorable way. "Come on, kid," Clint told him half-heartedly, "let's go inside."

The inn was full with Steve's friends (more like acquaintances). A grinning Steve welcomed Clint and Thor. "We've got it! We found a spot where three busy streets meet. It is also narrow, so blocking it won't be a problem. It's settled: we start tomorrow." The smile faded from Steve's face, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Clint muttered.

Steve crossed his arms and stared into Clint's eyes. He was his best friend, he knew him better than anyone. "The red-hair," Steve decided. "It's something about her."

"She left town. Probably forever," Clint confessed, lowering his head like a punished puppy.

"Oh, come on, Barton," Steve laughed, nudging his friend in the arm, "you've known her for what? A day? You'll easily find someone like her or better. In fact, I'll find you one now." Steve looked around the tavern playfully.

Clint faked a smile, "No thanks. I don't trust your taste."

"Hey," Steve pouted, "what about Peggy?"

Clint acted disgusted and asked, "You see what I'm talking about?" before bursting out in genuine laughter.


	7. Chapter 7

**VII**

Natasha was walking towards the ticket booth when her father stopped her. "We will take the train to Germany tomorrow," he said. "I have a friend who can take us in for the night. He also has contacts in the station, so they will tell the police we left for Spain." Natasha sighed. Bruce seemed to be well prepared for something like this, but he still wouldn't tell her anything about his past.

The young girl followed her father around the station until he stopped in front of a narrow wooden door. Bruce knocked and waited patiently. A man slightly older than him opened the door cautiously and broke into an almost-toothless grin when he saw the duo standing at his door.

"Bruce Banner, I never thought I'd see you again," the man announced, letting Bruce and Natasha in.

"Me neither, Tom, but I'm sadly not here for a leisure visit," Bruce replied, looking around the small apartment nervously.

"He found you, didn't he?" Tom growled his jaw clenched with rage. "Don't worry, you are safe here."

Bruce nodded, "We'll be staying only for the night. Tomorrow we leave for Germany."

"Good," Tom replied. He started fussing with some cupboard that had seen better days taking out blankets and muttering to himself. Natasha was only able to hear "Odinson", "Banner's a good man", "knucklehead", and "bag of cats". The teen looked at her father with a raised eyebrow.

Bruce leaned closer to his daughter, "His mind is not in the best conditions but we can trust him."

That wasn't enough. Natasha needed answers. "Who is he? Where did you meet him?"

"It's," Bruce hesitated, "it's a long story." The man rubbed his wrists, and Natasha could swear seeing scars that could only be made by manacles. She hoped that someday her father would tell her the truth.


	8. Chapter 8

**VIII**

Thor stood proudly on top of an overturned piano, which was on top of a broken table, which was on top of an old bookshelf, which was on top of a- oh, you get the point. He heard a shy "Hey" and saw the same brunette that had helped him standing at the base of the barricade.

The boy clambered down and took the girl's hand in his. "Mademoiselle, I will fight in your honor. Each second that passes behind that barricade will be a second used to think of you. Because the stars-"

"Oh no, you are not, Romeo," Steve grumbled, grabbing him by his shirt collar. "You have already served your country by helping us find a spot. Now go home, you are too young to fight."

"But home is where the heart is, and my house is where Loki is," the young blonde complained.

Steve smiled, "Okay, but only because I would never make anyone be near that greaseball." Thor kissed the brunette's hand and shimmied back to his spot on top of the piano.

Loki was fuming. Yesterday, the moment he had stepped into the police station, he had bumped into the mayor. After telling him about Banner and Romanoff, the mayor just sighed and said, "I'll send some of my men to look for them. On the other hand, Monsieur Inspector, you drop the case. I need you to stay in town. An anonymous message arrived here while you were out, informing us about Steve Rogers."

"I know about Rogers, monsieur," Loki had said, biting his lip to remain calm. "I'm sure he is no threat."

"The message said he and his friends will intend to start a revolution tomorrow."

Loki's mouth fell open. He knew Rogers. He started small riots, turned his closest friends against the government, but a full scale revolution? Never. Loki looked at the mayor, "You sure?"

The mayor nodded sadly. Loki rubbed his temples. He had been on Banner's trail for years, but disobeying the mayor would be crazy and a revolution? "Fine," Loki said.

Now, he was standing near the so-called barricade (seriously, they called a mound of wooden furniture protection?) waiting for orders from the mayor. Now he was certain: life sucks.


	9. Chapter 9

**IX**

Natasha jumped slightly when the train hit a bump, waking her up from her slumber. She rubbed her eyes and looked at Bruce, who was nervously tapping his fingers on the arm rest. Natasha looked out the window. They were passing by small farms and Natasha remembered when she had ridden a train for the first time, right after Bruce had 'freed' her from Stark's inn. Natasha had started imitating the animals, and Bruce, who had also been tense back then, had relaxed and imitated a donkey.

Natasha saw a cow grazing and gave it a shot. She leaned closer to her father and whispered, "Moo!" Bruce glanced at her, a bit surprised at the beginning, and then he smiled. He hadn't relaxed, but it was something.

"You are never going to tell me, are you?" the red-hair asked accusingly.

Bruce sighed and answered, "I-I don't know."

Natasha looked at her feet and muttered, "Thought so." She had tried to squeeze the truth from him for as long as she could remember knowing him, ever since he had come to Tony Stark's inn…

Ten-year-old Natasha placed the cold beer on the wooden table and whispered shyly, "Here you go, monsieur."

The stranger's greasy hand patted her head. "Ain't she a /hic/ sweetheart," he said, impossibly drunk.

Natasha slipped away quietly. She was an expert at that, and the fact that half of Tony's costumers were drunk made it easier. She walked towards her small room, knowing that the innkeeper would call her if he needed her. She sat on her bed, well, on her mattress and placed her chin between her raised knees. She wished her Mommy would come pick her up. She wished she would be nice. She wished many things.

"Natalie!" Stark's voice called. "Come here!"

'Natasha,' the girl thought, 'NatashaNatashaNatasha!'

She walked back into the tavern and towards the counter. "Yes?" she said as politely as her anger let her.

"Know him?" Tony asked, nodding towards a man standing next to the counter. And Natasha saw him for the first time. Kind brown eyes, a shy smile, curly brown hair, and clothes very different from the ones seen daily at the inn.

Natasha shook her head truthfully. The man smiled at her and whispered, "You know, you look exactly like your mother." Natasha looked at the man in surprise. He stretched a polite hand towards the girl. "Bruce. Bruce Banner, mademoiselle."

Tony ignored the stranger and asked, "Got cash?" He nodded. "How much?"

"1,500 francs," the man, Bruce, answered and placed a leather pouch on the counter.

Tony took the pouch, "All yours." He turned to the confused girl, "Natalia, pack your things. This man will be your new father or something. I don't know and I really don't care."

Natasha hesitated. Bruce seemed kind and knew her mother, and the red-hair knew that anything was better than staying with Tony. She smiled and ran to her room. Her 'things', if she could call them that, were an extra dress as ragged as the one she was wearing now and a piece of cloth she called a doll. She stuffed them both on an old bag and hopped happily back to the tavern.

Bruce politely took the bag from the girl's hands and slung it over his shoulder. "Natalie or Natalia?" he asked when they left the inn. "I am honestly confused."

"Natasha," the girl answered, laughing. "He never learned my name."

Bruce smiled and ruffled her hair. This was his new beginning.


	10. Chapter 10

**X**

Loki and his soldiers had finally advanced. After a while of random shooting (the 'random' part being for the revolutionaries), the Inspector had used his extensive knowledge on war to place the soldiers. If someone tries to sneak out, run to his mommy or simply sneak a peek, BAM! Bye bye brains.

Steve looked at the various faces standing behind the barricade."Everything's alright? Anybody hurt? We've got enough guns? Ammunition?" he asked nervously because, you know, it /was/ his first revolution. Clint raised his hand. Steve raised his eyebrow in annoyance, "What are you, ten?! No offense, Thor. Speak up, Barton!"

"Um, cap? If the next attack is like the one that just ended, we are kinda running out on ammo," the teen answered slowly. "I can use my bow if you want to, so we save a bit."

Steve rubbed his temples. "Yes, you do that. We could also—"

"I hid an extra ammunition stash in front of the barricade!" Thor interrupted loudly. "I'll go get it."

"In front?! You have to be crazy, they'll shoot you!"

"Too late," Clint muttered, pointing. The small blonde had opened a thin exit on the barricade and was already clambering out. Steve, wasting no time, climbed to the top to see what was happening on the other side.

Thor rummaged through the pile of wooden furniture. "Little people know," he sang under his breath, "when little people fight. We may look like easy pickings but we've got some-" A bullet whistled over his head.  
Thor froze. A soldier was pointing his rifle at him. His finger was still on the trigger and he was starting to press again. Thor's heart raced. This was it. Even if he could start running, the soldier would hit him. Time seemed to slow down.

Suddenly, the little brunette, the one that had helped Thor while he ran, appeared out of nowhere. She ran towards the soldier and in an act of sheer braveness worthy of Odin himself, kicked him in the crotch. The soldier bent down in pain, dropping his rifle.

Thor was still in shock, but he was trying to concentrate. Any other soldier could shoot him. And they would've, if it hadn't been for his big brother.

Loki walked towards the injured soldier in the fake and sarcastic calmness that characterized him. He picked up the man's rifle, lifted his head, and stuffed the weapon back into his arms. "Don't – /ever/ – do that – again," the Inspector growled. "He's barely a boy."

"S-Sorry, sir," the soldier stuttered.

Steve sighed in relief. At least Thor was safe now.


	11. Chapter 11

**XI**

The train shook to a sudden stop and Bruce looked anxiously out the window. "Monsieur, why are we stopping?" he asked a passing waiter.

The man shrugged, "Police, I think, monsieur. But don't worry, we are still on itinerary."

Bruce dug his nails into the armrest. Loki had probably discovered that the train for Spain was a fake. He had seen him. Someone had seen him. Loki never lost their trail. He waited—

Tasha touched his arm lovingly. "I'll go ask what's wrong. Don't worry, I'll be careful."

Before she could stand up, they heard the driver calling, "Nuthing to worry 'bout, folks. The city is blocked; nobody can go in or out." Bruce tensed even more. "Something 'bout some schoolboys rebelling. We'll give ye back yer money and save seats for y'all on the next train."

Now it was Natasha's turn to turn tense. A revolution? Schoolboys? "Clint," she whispered.

"Who?" her father asked her, slightly more relaxed.

The red-hair felt her ears grow hot. "No one, papa. Just… I'm worried, y'know… a revolution is a serious deal and… well, that," she stuttered nervously.

Banner raised his eyebrow suspiciously. A man, huh? Well, he had bigger problems to deal right now than his daughter's first love.

Going back into town was walking into the wolf's open jaws. Loki will probably dance of joy when he finds out all trains are turning back. The man rubbed his wrists wearily, scars from his old restrains itching. Bruce thought about his possibilities. He could help the boys at the barricade. He still had one more ace up his sleeve. A big, green ace. But it would be too much risk. He could hurt innocent people. And Natasha… well, she would be horrified. Bruce sighed, closed his eyes, and waited for the inevitable to happen.


	12. Chapter 12

**XII**

Bruce sneaked out of the train station. The station's staff had ordered everyone to stay inside, but he had managed to escape, leaving Natasha behind, where she would be safe. For a second, Bruce thought that he would have to sneak like that through the whole town, but then he realized the streets were empty. Not a single soul could be seen and there was an eerie silence. Doors and windows were bolted, their owners hiding from the revolution behind them.

Bruce closed his eyes and concentrated. He heard a gunshot and a scream and followed the sound. A while later, he was hiding behind a crate, the soldiers' backs facing him. His skin crawled when he realized Stark's inn was near him, a few steps away from the barricade. The tavern was still running as if a revolution was an everyday thing.

Steve peeked over the barricade. The soldiers were ready for the next assault, the injured from both sides had been healed, the revolutionaries had managed to get more ammunition, and Thor was safely next to him once more. The blonde raised his hand slightly. He heard several clicks as guns were loaded, took a deep breath, and closed his raised hand into a fist. Almost immediately, several rifles and guns of all sorts rose over the wall of furniture and the sounds of battle filled the air once. Steve grinned shakily and fired his own gun. He saw several of the soldiers go down, but so did many revolutionaries. Most of the soldiers were pierced right through the heart by arrows that seemed to come out from nowhere. Steve's smile became steadier. Thank goodness for Clint. His eyes were more accurate than a hawk's.

After a while of shooting, right when Steve was about to be driven mad by his friend's screams, someone passed him a note. "Who is this from?" he asked cautiously. The young man, Phil Coulson was his name, just shrugged. It read:

"Rogers, you can't do this on your own, can ya?

-TS

"Huh?" Steve muttered. Then he heard Stark.

"Move it, you fat drunks. Can't you raise your lazy bums from my chairs for a while? France (and Rogers) needs us," the innkeeper was shouting. Steve turned around and realized all of Stark's costumers were leaving the tavern (not exactly willingly) and attacking the soldiers from behind. They fought well for a bunch of 'fat drunks'.

It took Steve a second to realize how easily Stark had gotten through the barricade and now he was standing next to him. "Thanks, Sta- Tony."

"No prob," Tony answered. "What's the plan, cap?"

"We fight," he said, and jumped to the other side of the barricade with Stark at his heels.

Bruce had managed to mix between the passing clients until he reached the barricade. He looked around him, trying to see how many schoolboys he could recognize. There was Steve Rogers, the leader. Bruce had read about him several times on the newspaper. The teen was a class A rioter. Then there was Phil Coulson, a former cop. Clint, Clint… Bruce needed to find a 'Clint'. Probably Clint Barton. He was Roger's closest friend, so he must be somewhere around here. Bruce did not know how he had met his daughter (and he didn't want to know), but he had to meet him.

An arrow whistled past Bruce, missing him by inches. For a terrifying second, his heart rate accelerated as his body prepared to defend itself. The man turned around quickly, almost crashing into Clint Barton himself. His heart slowed down.

"Excuse me," the teen apologized. "It's hard to aim with everyone all mixed up. We need more men at the west side, so see what you can do. Ask-" Clint stopped. "You are Natasha's father, right?" he asked slowly. The man nodded. "Is she- is she safe?"

"Yes, and I intend to keep you safe also," Bruce answered.

Clint handed Bruce a gun. "Here, defend yourself."

A few seconds later, Clint, Bruce, Steve, and Tony were standing back to back, fighting off soldiers, and for a second, the chances of victory were bigger. Police officers seemed to come out of the floor. Clint reached behind him and grabbed another arrow. Or at least tried to grab another arrow, but his quiver, for the first time in his life, was empty. He spied a gun lying a few feet away. Maybe if he just stretched his arm a bit-

Clint's fingertips were barely grazing the handle when he felt a strong blow in the back of his neck. He fell forward, dazed and fighting for consciousness. Blood trickled down his neck. He was able to see Tony launching himself over his aggressor before blacking out.

"You coward!" the innkeeper growled as he attacked the soldier, "Attacking a man for behind!" Tony fought well, but he did not realize that, while he was using only his fists, his enemy had a gun. Soon enough, Stark was gasping for air, a gun poised on his forehead. This is when Bruce realized what was happening. He dropped his gun, knowing that he had enough strength to face the man without it. And maybe, just maybe, if things got rough and the soldier made him angry…

He was only able to move the soldier's arm before the weapon fired, hitting Tony in the chest. Bruce pushed the soldier aside with enough strength to send him flying and crashing into a wall. Bruce knelt next to Tony. Blood was pouring from his wound and he probably had only a few minutes left. "Hey," the innkeeper muttered, "you should get a move on. I would hate to see Loki get his hands on you again, Bruce." Tony chuckled when Bruce stared at him in confusion. "What do ya think I am? Blind? I can remember a face, y'know."

"But not the name of the girl you raised," Bruce whispered back, tears stinging in his eyes.

"Pfft, details. Now go, and take Clint with you." Bruce stood up slowly, wiping his eyes quickly. "And Bruce," Tony added, "make sure Nick gets his second drink free."


	13. Chapter 13

**XIII**

Steve Rogers scanned his surroundings. He no longer cared if he was in plain view, no barricade shielding him. Just a few of his men were still standing, the bodies of the others littering the street. Except for Clint's. And Banner's. Steve hoped they were still alive. He had finally convinced Thor to leave by telling him to go pickpocket someone. They may need the money for later... if there was a "later".  
A soldier took a step forward from his ranks, and began reading from a piece of paper, probably a message, "Message from Monsieur Leopold, mayor of this town-"  
"Who coincidentally is not here," someone yelled.  
"But he obviously is /not/ scared," another revolutionary sarcastically added.  
"-chosen by Your Majesty, the king, himself. We recognize your decrease in number; therefore, we give you the chance to withdraw before more blood is shed."  
Angry shouts rose from the barricade. Steve raised his hand to shush his comrades. "We will fight until the last man is down! Others will continue in our place, now or in the future, and someday we will be free!"  
"On your head be it." The soldier raised his rifle and the others followed him. The agonizing screams of dying revolutionaries filled the air.  
Steve looked at the man on his right. "Coulson?"  
"Yes, sir?"  
"Pleasure fighting by your side."  
"Same, sir."  
Steve picked up a blood stained French flag and raised it over his head. He closed his eyes, the wind flapping his blonde hair. Steve didn't even give his enemies the pleasure of a wince when he felt the dull pain of metal piercing his chest.

Bruce trudged through the muddy floor of the sewers (he knew it wasn't mud, but he preferred to think it was). Clint's body was slung over his shoulder. Bruce /was/ going to bring him home, he /was/ going to take him with his 'Tasha, they /were/ going to live happily ever after.  
He looked back and immediately wished he hadn't. The horribly familiar slender figure blocked the little light coming from the entrance of the tunnel. A younger figure sat on the railing next to him, his legs swinging merrily.  
Clint's weight was starting to hurt Bruce's shoulder. "Oh great, the Odinsons," he muttered.  
Loki cast a glance at his brother an indifferent look. "No," he corrected dryly, "one Odinson, one /Laufeyson/. Which reminds me, Thor, what /are/ you doing here?"  
"Laufey? Should have guessed," Thor said, his voice calm as if he just found out some useless gossip. "As for what I'm doing here, these tunnels connect several hotspots in the city. I use 'em to go 'round pickpocketing without getting caught." He raised a pair of gold earring to emphasize his point. "I'm taking this to Stark later. He'll give me a fair price for 'em."  
Bruce bit his lip, deciding to hold back the truth from the young boy.  
"I'll pretend I did not hear that because I have more important matters to attend," Loki grumbled, turning back to Bruce. "Last time I saw you, you were running for mayor, and you were considered a 'fair and kind' citizen. The time before that, you were taking an orphan girl under your wing. Am I right?" Bruce nodded. "Is it only me, or are you /pretending/ to be human to hide the fact that you are truly a beast?"  
Bruce tensed, "Loki, save your grudges for later. This boy- he is innocent and needs a doctor!"  
"Should I care?" Loki paused and pretended to ponder. "Hmm... No, no I don't."  
"Loki..." Bruce was starting to lose control, and that would /not/ be pretty.  
"Someone's getting... green with rage," the Inspector smiled at his own joke.  
"Isn't it 'green with jealousy'?" Thor asked.  
"Pest, mind your own business," Loki grumbled, but his smile soon returned. "As for you, there is nowhere to run."  
Okay, "about to lose control" was totally one minute ago. Careful not to drop Clint, Bruce shoved Loki against the tunnel wall. Hard. Blood trickled down the man's pale neck as he stumbled to the ground. Bruce voice was a gruff growl when he spoke, "Can't you for once- for /one/ single time- put a life before duty?! Can't you?!" He felt something in his hand realized he had unconsciously picked up a rusty piece of metal, sharp enough to be used as a knife...  
"Do it," Loki urged, his voice a mere whisper, "kill me. Prove that you are nothing but a wild beast."  
Bruce hesitated. He could. He could do it and be free. "No." The knife slipped from his grasp. "I won't. I'm not him... I'm not the Other Guy."  
Loki's eyes opened in surprise but then quickly became a suspicious sneer. "If this is some sort of trickery..."  
Bruce shook his head, "That's your area, isn't it?"  
"But if you think this will stop me from trying to put you behind bars, you are wrong."  
"I know, but I'm no murderer." He stretched his hand towards the bleeding man on the floor, inviting him to take it. The Inspector took it slowly. After Loki was back on his feet, Bruce showed him his hands, ready for a new pair of manacles. "And I hope someday you understand that I'm not a criminal either."  
Loki looked at the man's bare, vulnerable wrists. Bright red scars peeked under his sleeves. "Go," Loki said so softly only he heard it. "Go," he repeated, louder this time. It was Bruce's turn to look astonished. "You heard me. Just go."  
Loki seemed ashamed by his decision, but Bruce took his chance anyway. He began walking tiredly towards another exit, expecting Loki to lunge at him when his back was turned, but the Inspector did not move.  
Soon enough, Bruce reached the tunnel end that, as he had memorized, led to the town's hospital. He half dragged Clint the last few feet. The nuns here owed him a favor, so he could ask them not to tell anyone it was he had brought the revolutionary here. He didn't want Natasha worrying for him, or another soldier to join the dots and become the new Loki.  
"Sisters," he panted when he walked through the door. A young nun spotted him and ran to his aid.  
"Oh dear god, monsieur. Sister Madeleine! Sister Madeline!"  
Bruce knew Sister Madeline. And Sister Madeline knew him.  
"Oh, Bruce, you shouldn't be here. Loki is the new Inspector and I think he suspects-" the nun said as she led him to an empty bed.  
Bruce chuckled, "Believe me, I know." He placed Clint carefully on the bed.  
"Who is he?" Sister Madeline asked.  
"An acquaintance," the man answered plainly. "An acquaintance that cannot know I brought him here. No one can." The nun nodded.  
The two of them walked away from the bed when nuns started bustling around, bringing bandages and pain killers. "He is in good hands," Sister Madeline assured.  
"Sister?"  
"Yes, dear?"  
"Do you think I can send an urgent message to the train station?"  
"Anything for you, dear. Use the telegraph."

***********  
"Papa, are you alright?!" Natasha Romanoff exclaimed when she arrived at the hospital. "They told me I was needed at the hospital."

"I'm fine, I'm fine," Bruce answered. "But it is not me you should be worrying about," he added, nodding towards Clint. The teen was awake now, although a bit drowsy, and a nun was asking some questions.

The red hair ran to the bedside, cupping his cheek with a pale hand. "'Tasha," Clint whispered, the nun and the questions forgotten. Natasha barely noted that his free hand grabbed something in his bedside table before holding her hand. The girl soon felt the cold metal biting at her skin and opened her hand. Inside laid a simple gold ring with a bright red crystal perched on top. "I asked the Sisters to get it for me," Clint managed to say before Natasha kissed him.

As soon as Banner was out of sight, Loki glared at his brother. There was something different in his eyes, but Thor couldn't put his finger on what was wrong. "Go home, Mother must be worried," the Inspector ordered, his voice definitely weaker.

"Where are you going?" Thor asked, the higher pitch in his voice obviously due to weariness, not worry. Definitely not worry.

"Rivoli Bridge, just for a walk. Don't tell Frigga. "

"Okay. Sure, bro-," Thor stopped himself, "Inspector."

Loki trudged towards the exit, but stopped. "Thor?"

The little blonde looked at him in disbelief as the soldier carefully unpinned a star shaped golden medal from his jacket and handed it to Thor. "You deserve it," Loki said before walking on.

Thor arrived home a while later, ignoring everything around him except for the shimmering medal.

"You were very brave," a shy voice said to his right before he reached his front door. The brunette girl was standing a few feet away.

"Not as much as you, mademoiselle," Thor answered politely.

The brunette leaned over and gave him a quick peck in the cheek. "Joan," she whispered. "'Mademoiselle' is too fancy."

"Thor!" a sweet voice called.

"Mother's calling," Thor said before kissing the girl's hand and entering his house.

Frigga was indeed waiting for him. She ruffled his golden hair when he walked in an asked, "Where's Loki?"

"No idea," Thor lied.

"Hm, I hope he arrives before dinner," Frigga muttered. Thor was distractedly walking towards his room, but Frigga touched his shoulder kindly. "Just a second, young man. Sleipnir needs brushing and a fresh pack of hey."

"Sure, Mother," Thor muttered, changing his course and walking towards Odin's stables. He must be holding the medal too tightly because tears were starting to form in his eyes. It was either the medal or something else…


End file.
